


Visitor in the Night

by ChocolateChipMaster



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [13]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Gen, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron) Whump, Prompt: Stalking, Protective Hunk (Voltron), Stalking, racer!keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 05:56:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16948305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateChipMaster/pseuds/ChocolateChipMaster
Summary: Keith got off work at ten o’clock every night. Looking back on it now, it was probably having such a predictable schedule that started this all to begin with.





	Visitor in the Night

**Author's Note:**

> For the 'stalking' square on my Bad Things Happen Bingo card! 
> 
> Arwenride requested: Hi hi hi can I request for bad things happen Stalked with Keith? Whoever the stalker is I don't care :)  
> Secondarily, toribubble also wanted: !!! i absolutely love your focus so i was wondering if i could steal the stalking card with keith (and!! only if possible, for hunk to be the one to comfort him about it during it?)
> 
> The two asks were so similar, I just decided to combine them. Hope that's okay! 
> 
> This isn't beta-read, so all mistakes are on me 
> 
> Enjoy!

****Keith got off work at ten o’clock every night.

He’d shuffle out of the diner he worked at, smelling of thick maple syrup and mentally flipping the bird to every rude customer he’d dealt with and shambled over to his dinky little car he’d parked behind the drive-through. Looking back on it now, it was probably having such a predictable schedule that started this all.

Unlocking the car door, Keith collapsed in the front seat, tossing the uniform suspenders he’d practically ripped off of him before he was even out the diner doors into the backseat. He leaned his forehead into the wheel and let out a long sigh.

His phone began buzzing in the cupholder. Keith glanced at it, reading Shiro’s name on the screen along with a goofy picture his pseudo-older brother had taken on it and lifted the phone to his ear.

“Hey,” Keith sounded tired, even to him.

“Hey,” Shiro echoed. “You just get off your shift?”

“Yeah,” Keith groaned through the word, stretching his arms over his head. His palm pressed flat on the car’s ceiling.

“How was it?”

Keith scowled. “Some old _douchebag_ dropped his fucking milkshake _on purpose_ and looked at me dead in the eyes and asked why I hadn’t cleaned it up yet.” Shiro whistled lowly on the other end.

“Wow,” he said. “What did you do?”

“Cleaned it up, of course,” Keith glared at his hands. They were sticky for hours and took several trips to the bathroom to finally clean off. They still smelled faintly of artificial chocolate. “Not like I had a choice.” He turned to look out the window, putting the keys of his car in the ignition. There was another car still in the lot. It was taking up two parking spaces and turned to face his shitty red Honda Civic. Keith narrowed his eyes at it.

“I don’t envy your job, Keith,” Shiro said, a low laugh bubbling up in the back of his throat.

Keith scoffed. “You just got hired _into the detective position_ by the Police Department, Shiro. Don’t you start complaining.”

Shiro’s laugh was lost in the roar of Keith’s engine as he turned it on. Keith turned his head to begin backing out when he realized the other car had also turned on. He couldn’t quite make out the figure in the front seat but felt a shiver run down his spine nonetheless.

Was that person… following him?

 _Ridiculous,_ Keith tried to tell himself, but he’d heard far too many stories about people going missing because they had been followed home. But this was ridiculous. This same car had been in the same lot as he - parked in the same way - for the past week. This was the first time they’d ever turned on their car at the same time Keith did.

“Weird…” he muttered.

“What’s weird?” Shiro asked. There was a clatter of cutlery from his end. “ _Shoot…”_ He muttered.

“Nothing,” Keith said. “Just a weird car. I’m probably overreacting.”

_Overreacting._

Yeah, that was it. He was just freaked out for no reason. Maybe it was just one of his coworkers hanging out in the parking lot on their phone after they got off their shift.

His nerves eased somewhat, Keith turned onto the main road. He listened to Shiro prattle on about his new job, smiling the whole while. He ignored the fact that the car was making the same turns he was. That it followed him onto the freeway and changed lanes when he did. That it nearly matched his speed and he usually went ten or even fifteen over the limit at every opportunity.

Shiro started talking about one of his coworkers who had shown him around the precinct that day. Keith lost himself in the rhythm of Shiro’s story, completely forgetting the car following his every move. He was so content that he almost forgot to notice the car following him into his apartment complex parking lot.

He narrowed his eyes at it as he turned off his car and glanced behind him. The stranger had parked a few spots away. 

 _Relax, Keith,_ he thought. _They probably live here too._

Keith mumbled another response to Shiro’s admittedly _insane_ story, keeping his eyes on the mysterious car as he got out of his own.

The driver got out of the car. Keith caught a glimpse of their snow-white hair before they ducked down again like they'd forgotten something in the passenger's seat. Keith in the complex before they had even straightened back up. 

 

“I swear to _Christ,_ if one more person asks me for something that’s _clearly_ not on the menu and then proceeds to insist I - the _person who works there_ \- is wrong I will throw myself out of a window,” Keith told Shiro on his way up the apartment stairs. “ _Jesus_ I need to get back to racing.” Shiro chuckled.

“You were always better at that than serving pancakes at a diner,” he agreed. “But, you’re on injury leave until next season.”

“They could have at least _paid_ me so I didn’t have to work at a _diner_ for eight months,” Keith grumbled. He knew his injury was his own fault - he’d gotten too cocky during a race and dislocated his ankle. It had healed months ago, but he wasn’t allowed back onto the track until February.

“Be more careful then, so this doesn’t happen,” Shiro chided.

“I _know,”_ Keith fumbled for his keys, opening his apartment doors. “I have a newfound respect for retail workers now.”

Shiro snorted. “Alright, Keith, I’m gonna head to bed. You need anything?”

Keith’s lips curled up at the edges. “Nope. Get some rest, Shiro.”

“Will do,” Shiro promised. A pause and then- “No staying up until three AM tonight, got it?”

Keith groaned. “Shiro-”

“No,” Shiro said.

Keith sighed, closing his door behind him. “Fine.”

“Thank you,” Shiro said. He hung up a moment later and Keith tossed his phone onto his futon and went to go open the blinds.

He blanched when he saw the figure standing literally _under his window._ Staring up at his apartment. Staring up at _him._

Keith recognized the white hair almost instantly. It was the same mystery driver from the other day. Didn’t he live here? Why was he staring up at Keith?

Unnerved, Keith closed the blinds. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled.

Something was very, _very_ wrong here.

 

Keith blew softly on the rim of his cup. Across from him, Hunk sat sipping coffee and beaming at him with an enormous grin. The coffee shop around them was bustling and loud but still felt familiar. 

Hunk and Keith used to have little excursions to coffee shops like this all the time in-between Keith's racing seasons. But as soon as Keith was injured and he was forced to take up work at the diner, his time had become increasingly limited. This was the first time in _months_ the two were able to meet up in-between their conflicting schedules.

Keith took a sip of tea, smiling as it relaxed him. The past few days had been hectic with the mystery driver staring up at his window practically every night. Keith knew by now that this person was absolutely stalking him, he just wasn’t sure how to approach it.

His gaze flicked up to Hunk, who was adding more sugar into his coffee. If there was anyone who would know what to do, it would be Hunk.

“Hey,” Keith said carefully. “Uh… can I ask you something? It’ll sound weird, though, so promise you won’t laugh.”

Hunk looked up, tapping the bottom of the sugar packet with his finger. “What’s up?”

Keith blew on his tea again, frowning. “I’m pretty sure I’m being stalked.”

Hunk blanched. “Wait, _what?_ No way.” 

“I’m serious!” Keith said. He looked around to make sure no one was listening in leaned across the table. “I-I don’t know if it’s like a crazed fan who hunted me down or something, but they’ve been following me home from work and then just _stand_ underneath my apartment window and _stare._ It’s _creepy.”_

“That’s weird,” Hunk looked deeply disturbed. “Do you know who it is?”

“No,” Keith huffed. “Whoever it is has _white_ hair of all things. It’s probably dyed. I-I dunno, regardless it’s _creepy._ This guy knows my schedule front to back. They could probably recite it backwards if they were asked!”

“Okay, Keith, gonna be completely blunt here,” Hunk stirred in the sugar with a plastic spoon. His eyebrows were furrowed. “Your schedule is _really_ predictable.”

Keith recoiled. “It is _not.”_

Hunk raised an eyebrow. “Keith, you get up at nine every morning to make breakfast and get ready to head to the diner at noon. You work a shift there until closing at ten and then head back home to repeat the process the next morning.”

“Okay,” Keith’s cheeks colored. “Maybe it is a _little_ predictable-”

“A little?” Hunk scoffed.

“Okay a _lot_ predictable,” Keith cringed. “But this is still _creepy,_ Hunk, I-” A pit appeared in Keith’s stomach as he glanced harmlessly out the window for a moment. He had spotted a familiar car. An unseen driver sitting there in the parking lot, waiting. Keith didn’t have to see their eyes to know they were watching him. It was his stalker. “Oh you’ve _got_ to be shitting me,” he said.

“What?” Hunk looked up, alarmed.

“They’re here,” Keith said, almost slamming his cup of tea down. He craned his neck to see if he could get a better look at the person behind the wheel, but all he could see was that _stupid_ white hair. Their face had been cleverly obscured by the sun visor. “What the _fuck_ Hunk, I can see their _car.”_

Hunk almost spat out coffee. “ _Excuse me?”_

Keith pointed. He didn’t care if he was blatantly acknowledging the existence of a person who was following him around everywhere. He was too terrified in the moment to really think straight. His fingers were trembling.

“Oh wow, you weren’t kidding about that white hair,” Hunk narrowed his eyes at Keith’s stalker. “And how long has he been following you?”

“Three, four days?” Keith said. He paled as a new realization hit him. His throat suddenly felt very dry. “Maybe longer. He’s been hanging out around the diner after hours, nearby where I park.” He choked. “Oh my god, _Hunk-”_

Hunk was looking just as panicked as Keith. “Whoa, okay, don’t freak out. I’m freaking out, but you can’t freak out. Keep a level head. Do you know anything else about this guy other than the color of their hair and what car they drive?” Keith shook his head.

“No,” he whispered.

Hunk’s grip was tight around his coffee cup. “Well, for now just… keep an eye on him, okay? If you need anything, give me a call. I’ll help you lay low until this freak goes away.”

Keith turned his head again to watch his stalker, staring at him through the front seat. He was trembling. “Okay.”

 

Things seemed to be tame, just for a little while.

As terrifying as it was, Keith tolerated his stalker staring up at his window every night. He put up with the none-too-subtle ‘following him everywhere’ thing. As terrifying as it was, as much as it made Keith’s throat tighten and give him the impression that wherever he went, he was never safe, he ignored it.

At least until his stalker tailgated him the whole way home. Followed his every move with very clear intentions.

He wanted to confront Keith.

Keith, who was in the middle of parking in his usual spot, had this realization as soon as he realized the car wasn’t driving past him like it usually did. He tuned out Shiro’s latest story from his new job, his heart pounding in his ears.

“Oh, _shit,”_ was all he said before dropping his phone mid-call and craning his neck to look behind him. The car had its brights on so Keith couldn’t see who was driving. He tried squinting, but he could only make out the same figure as before, dark and silhouetted. Shiro was calling his name through the static of the phone. Keith - too busy panicking - didn’t think to respond.

He turned around mid-park and almost crashed into another car in his haste to get away.

The car followed.

“Oh fuck _that,”_ he said loudly, squinting behind him through the lights again. He almost floored the gas, turning the wheel sharply to avoid hitting anything. The stalker followed in hot pursuit.

Keith’s heart pumped as he turned back onto the street without watching for other cars. He was too busy thinking out his options, trying to get the car that was now practically up his bumper _off his ass._

Keith squeezed the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white.

_Who lived closest?_

Shiro had recently moved out of the complex to get into a nicer one closer to work. Lance still lived with his family almost a full thirty minutes away. Pidge was out of town with Matt and Hunk-

_Hunk._

Hunk was close. Five minutes if Keith sped and he always sped. Even greater, his neighborhood was nothing but twists and turns and you’d easily get lost if you didn’t know the area.

Keith glanced up through his rearview mirror at the car trying to follow him. He ended the call with a _very_ worried Shiro and gripped the clutch tightly.

 _Racing skills don’t fail me now,_ he thought grimly.

Shifting gears and flooring the gas, Keith maneuvered in between traffic. The car tailing him followed, almost effortlessly. Keith gritted his teeth. He’d underestimated the skills of the driver.

He took a hard right without slowing down, almost rolling the car, and sped into Hunk’s neighborhood. The car followed right behind. Keith cursed. There was no way he’d shake the mystery driver off now, he was too close. He had to warn Hunk in advance and go around in circles around the neighborhood until he finally lost this _stupid_ stalker.

Fumbling for his phone while spinning around a roundabout, Keith practically shouted at it to call Hunk.

Mercifully, Hunk picked up on the second ring.

_Good old reliable Hunk._

“Hey, Keith!” He said. “This is a surprise. Did you just get off work?”

“Hunk!” Keith practically shouted. “I need your help!”

“Huh?”

“Holy _shit,”_ Keith almost swerved into a park to avoid the car who had decided to come around the _other_ side of the roundabout to chase him. His tires bounced over the sidewalk and he floored the gas to go get lost in the maze of condos. “Hunk, I need you to listen to me. This guy is tailing me, I-” His breath hitched as he turned a sharp corner. The car followed. “Jesus _Christ,_ get off my ass!” He glanced wildly behind him, still trying fruitlessly to make out his stalker's face. 

“Keith?” Hunk was scared. Scared for _him._

“Remember when I told you about my stalker?” Keith demanded, swerving again. “And how you said to ignore it and call you if things got worse?”

“Yeah?” 

“Well, things just got _worse!”_ Keith turned sharply. The car nearly whizzed past him before turning hard at the last second. Whoever it was knew the insides and out of their car very well.

“Wait, you said something about tailing earlier,” Hunk’s voice was an octave higher than usual. “Is… oh my lord, Keith is he _chasing_ you?”

“ _Yes!”_

“Oh god, okay um,” Keith could practically hear the gears turning in Hunk’s brain. “Okay, this is gonna sound crazy, but if he’s really following you this closely, it might be the only way.”

“Just tell me!” Keith yelped. His stalker smashed into him, propelling his car forwards and denting his bumper. Keith kept driving.

“Okay, drive to the condos,” said Hunk frantically. 

“Already there!”

“Good! There should be a little skatepark of sorts in the middle of there,” Hunk explained. “There’re no barriers around it and the craziest thing they have is a rail to grind on. Drive through it!” 

Keith, without even hesitating, followed Hunk’s orders. He took the winding roads to the center of the condos and shifted gears. He sucked in a deep breath and shifted gears, putting both hands on either side of the wheel.

The only way this was going to end was if he did it himself.

And if that meant taking a few risks, Keith was more than willing to do so.

The park would be hard to maneuver around without hitting anything. Small little ramps jutted out here and there, but Keith would not let that stop him. He was a world-class racer.

He could _do_ this.

“Here goes nothing,” he muttered, more to himself than Hunk. He yanked the wheel hard and went plowing into the skate park. The car screeched as the driver pressed the brakes hard. Keith ignored it as he turned the wheel this way and that, tires bouncing over the ends of the ramps and diving through the manicured lawn. He left tire-tracks in his wake and was likely ruining someone’s hard work but he couldn’t find himself caring much.

He swerved hard, smashing clean through a bush. Leaves and tiny branches fluttered behind him as he drove.

Keith got several feet of air as he flew out in the other side of the park. He grunted and turned the wheel to steady himself as he floored the gas. He could no longer see his stalker’s headlights, but he was _not_ taking any chances.

“Did you lose him?” Hunk demanded. His voice was tight.

Keith glanced in the rearview mirror. He didn’t see the headlights anymore. “I think so. Where to now?”

“My house,” Hunk said. “I-I opened the garage for you, there’s room. That way if they drive by looking for you they can’t find your car and figure out this is where you are.”

“Got it,” Keith sighed. “I owe you big time, Hunk.”

“Repay me with another coffee shop trip,” Hunk was trying to lighten the mood. It wasn’t helping much.

The drive to Hunk’s house was relatively peaceful after that. Keith didn’t see any headlights following him, nor did he see any telltale sign of his stalker’s white hair.

Hunk’s garage was open as he promised it would be. Keith parked inside and took a moment to recollect himself after the insanity he’d just endured. He’d have to call Shiro, tell him what happened, but right now-

Right now he needed a breather.

The garage door started to close. It startled Keith so much he smashed his head into the roof of his car from jumping. He whipped around, blood roaring in his ears, but only saw Hunk standing in the garage door. He smiled weakly, his heart pounding against his ribcage.

God, he really owed Hunk _big time_ for this.

Opening the door, Keith tried to stop the way his hands trembled. He wiped a few stray leaves off of the hood of the car from the bush he’d smashed and turned to Hunk.

“You okay?” Hunk asked breathlessly. He was looking Keith over from afar, checking him over for injuries.

“Yeah,” Keith nodded. He was fine, aside from being a little rattled. And still mildly terrified. Okay, _really_ terrified. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Hunk opened the garage door wider. “I can set up a movie for you inside if that’ll help.”

Keith thought about tomorrow. He had work at the diner. But honestly, he could really care _less_ about it. He was taking _no_ chances with his stalker still at large.

 _Fuck tomorrow,_ Keith decided.

“Yeah,” he turned up to Hunk, trying to stop the trembling in his arms. “Yeah, that’ll really help. Thanks, Hunk.”

**Author's Note:**

> HI THIS ENTIRE THING IS NOW A RACING AU I MAY OR MAY NOT EXPAND ON LATER OOPS
> 
> And, let's be real here, in another universe, Keith absolutely races for Nascar and he is *damn* good at it. 
> 
> A very special thanks to arwenride and toribubble for the prompts. This was probably my favorite one to write so far! I've never really written a stalker scene before, so I hope this was in line with both of your expectations! <3
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! Your support means the world to me and keeps me going as a writer. If you liked it, feel free to drop a comment or something! Or just a kudos if that's what you're more comfortable with, I'm not picky :D 
> 
> If you'd like to see all of my prompts for Bad Things Happen Bingo, you can find them all [here](https://chocolatechip-master.tumblr.com/tagged/bad-things-happen-bingo)! All of the prompts have been requested, however, and so BTHB inbox is closed. But if you have a prompt you want me to write, feel free to let me know!


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